


Losing what you wanted to keep

by Jaro (ARealSlimScotty)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alcoholism, Angst, M/M, Post "The End", i'll add as i go - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9428861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARealSlimScotty/pseuds/Jaro
Summary: Months after the events of "The End" and Tord is not doing so swell, and when he needs to go under the radar there's a chance for him to reunite with the friends he totally doesn't miss or care about.aka another edgy post "The End" fic. Also I don't have a beta reader soooo ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ let's hope I don't mess up my grammar too much





	1. A Lovely Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not the man that I once was  
> But I'm changing every day because  
> I want to find someone like you"

Tord wasn’t much of a drinker. He didn’t like the way it made him feel, made him think, or the whole process of drinking and getting drunk. He was more of a smoker himself. Even if he only had the occasional cigar, he still preferred it to alcohol. Yet here he was, drinking. It was a bad habit he’d picked up recently. Nearly every night he’d drink and sit alone at his desk, weighing his gains and losses as of late. 

He’d lost many things. He’d lost an arm, his left eye, hearing in his right ear, a giant robot, and he’d also lost his closest friends. What did he gain? He gained a myriad of scars, a sense of self-loathing, a robotic limb, and ptsd (as well as other mental health problems). And just like every other night, the gains and losses didn’t break even. No matter how much he thought it through he lost. He lost in so many ways, and he didn’t win in any way at all. He poured himself another shot of vodka. Straight vodka. He winced, as he drank it all in one go. Vodka burned his throat and he hated the taste. It worked, though, it managed to get him drunk fast. 

Tom used to drink straight vodka. Did he still? It had been months since he’s seen any of them. He’s sure that he left them all emotionally damaged. Maybe Tom gave up drinking. Maybe Tom started drinking even more. Maybe Edd stopped drinking cola, maybe he stopped drawing. Maybe Matt started hating himself. Tord didn’t know, and he didn’t care either. He didn’t care about how he might have affected him. He laid his head down on his desk and shut his eyes. He felt numb. Tears prickled in his eyes, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t sad. He was numb. 

He heard a knock on his door, “Come in…” He grumbled, lifting his head up to see who it was. “What do you want Paul?” He asked. Paul walked up to the desk. He was holding a few papers.

“Sir, I need to talk to you about a few plans to go under the radar for a while. The police are even more after you than normal since the Robot incident and there has been rumor of your death spreading through Europe,” He placed a few of the papers on Tord’s desk, “Patryk and I have arranged a few plans if you’d like to hear them.”

Tord looked at his bottle of vodka, then at Paul. “I’m a little busy soldier, but sure. Lay it on me.”

“Well, the first option would be fly over to the United States for a while in one of our helicopters. We have a soldier who knows a place you could stay in the countryside, and you’d have to lay low there for a year or so. Pat and I would go with you and we’d take turns flying back to the main base to deliver your orders and messages. This plan, as well as the rest would involve faking your death,” Paul spoke. Tord nodded in response, signaling Paul to move onto the next one. Paul shuffled his papers a bit before speaking again, “The second plan would be like the first, a relocation. Only you’d be going to a smaller town in Argentina.” 

“Are there any other plans soldier? Or can I choose now?” Tord asked, looking through the plan papers that Paul set on his desk. 

“There is one more, and it’s what Patryk and I would personally recommend for you. Patryk has located the apartment complex that your old friends are currently located in. We would rent out a two bedroom apartment there, Patryk and I would room with you. We would send your orders to the base just like in the other two plans, but unlike the other plans it would be a chance for you to rekindle your old friendships and focus your mental health, sir.” Paul set the last papers down on Tord’s desk. They were the ones detailing the whereabouts of his old friends.

Tord snatched the papers and looked at them. He felt a tear fall, and then he furrowed his brows. “WHY THE HELL DO YOU THINK I’D WANT TO SEE THEM AGAIN SOLDIER?!” He yelled, throwing the papers at Paul. 

Paul remained calm. He simply picked up the papers off the ground and restacked them. “Sir, Patryk and I think that It’d be healthy for you to become friends with them again. Your mental health hasn’t been in good shape as of late. You try your best to hide it, but Pat and I can hear you cry at night and we are the ones who have to throw away all your empty bottles of vodka.” 

“Soldier, you are in no position to tell me what you THINK would be healthy for me. I’ll have you know I’m doing JUST FINE. I do not want to see my old friends, and I do not care… about them. Must I remind you that I am the one in charge of this army, and I am the one in control of myself? I do not need you and Patryk to tell me how much drinking is too much and I certainly don’t need you two to tell me who I should be friends with!” Tord lectured, anger imminent in his voice. His words were slightly slurred and his emotions all over the place. He did not want to see his friends, and he was sure they did not want to see him. He knew they hated him. And he couldn’t care less about them. He didn’t need friends.

Paul walked behind his desk and stood next to Tord. He handed him the papers once more, “Tord. I’m telling you right now that you will regret not choosing this option. You miss your friends. It’s obvious-”

“THAT’S RED LEADER TO YOU SOLDIER,” Tord yelled as he stood up, slapping Paul across the face. Paul winced a little but remained otherwise unfazed. Instead of hitting Tord back, he wrapped his arms around him in a hug,

“Tord, I’m not speaking to you as a soldier. I’m speaking to you as a close friend. I can tell that you miss them. I understand, don’t worry. You’re scared. It’s okay. Patryk and I are here for you. We just want you to get happy. Because once Tord is happy and healthy, Red Leader can rule stronger” Paul spoke, hugging Tord tightly. Both to comfort him and to prevent Tord from hitting him again.

Tord seethed with rage at the action. But then he realized that Paul was right. He was scared. He’s been trying so hard to lie to himself, but he knew it was true. He let a tear fall. And then another. Before he knew it he was crying on Paul’s shoulder, “I-I’m sorry…” He cried. God he was a mess. Paul rubbed his back in a comforting manner, glad to see Tord was finally being honest. “I’ll go w-with the third option,” Tord sniffled, wiping his tears. Paul let go of Tord and nodded. He picked up the papers and started walking towards the door.

“I’ll get the arrangements made, sir.” He walked out the door and started to close it behind him. He stopped and turned, “And Tord, Pat and I are always here to talk.” he smiled before shutting the door all the way.

Tord poured himself another shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every chapter is named after a song I like or something Idk This chapter is titled after A Lovely Mess by Front Porch Step. Get ready for sadness m8.


	2. Maps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And I've got big big plans.  
> But I can see them slipping through  
> Almost feel them slipping through  
> The palms of my sweaty hands."

Tord woke up at his desk with a blanket wrapped around him. When exactly did he get a blanket? Did Paul put it on him? He sighed as he got up, abandoning the blanket and shivering from the cold. He went to pick up the half empty bottle of vodka from his desk but noticed that it was gone. So was the shot glass. In fact, his whole desk was remarkably clean and his coat had been laid out for him. Did paul do all that for him too? It’s not like he cared or anything. He pulled his blue overcoat onto himself and walked out of his office, stopping to look at himself in the mirror.

He grimaced when he saw his reflection. He’d probably never get used to seeing those ugly scars and that goddamn eye patch. “Disgusting…” He muttered, frowning. He looked away and left the office, closing the double doors behind him. He’d have to make sure he didn’t have a mirror in the new apartment. He wasn’t sure of he could stand being greeted by his own face in the morning anymore. He could stand the hangovers every morning. He could stand the headaches, the nausea, the sensitivity, and the general feeling of shitiness. But he just couldn’t stand looking at himself anymore. 

He passed a few soldiers as he made his way to Paul and Patryk’s office, all of them straightening up and saluting him with fear in their faces. He saluted back and waved them off. He frowned a bit, not liking the way they looked at them. He wanted to be a feared leader but.. He couldn’t stand people looking at him with fear in their eyes. When he reached the office he knocked on the door twice before entering.

“Good morning, soldiers,” He greeted, walking in and shutting the door behind him.

“Morning, sir..” They saluted, exchanging weary looks at each other. They silently decided not to tell Tord that it was a good hour or two past noon.

“Sir, Pat and I have done most of the paperwork and such for your relocation. You have a few things to sign off on and a few decisions to make,” Paul reported, hand Tord a stack of paperwork that he needed to sign. Tord simply nodded.  
“And what are those choices, soldier?” Tord asked. He was somewhat impressed that Paul and Patryk managed to get things ready so fast. Did they already start planning this?

This time, Patryk answered him, “Well you see sir, we need you to choose between a few move-in dates and we also need to buy furniture for the apartment. Your schedule is clear today so you and I will go do that at around three. While we do that, Paul will go and turn in the paper work for your apartment.” 

Tord paused for a bit, before thinking of a day on the spot, “Okay we’ll move in… Next tuesday?” He shrugged. Paul nodded while he scribbled onto another sheet of paper and handed it to Tord. 

“Okay, sir. You can go fill out those papers and by the time you’re done it will be around time for you and I to go furniture shopping,” Patryk smiled. Tord nodded and started to walk towards the door. He hesitated as he went to open it. Did he really want to go to his office? Alone? Paul and Patryk’s office was far nicer… Sure it was smaller, and somewhat cramped but the environment was nice. Tord’s office was just sad. It reeked of vodka and loneliness. And quite frankly, Tord just didn’t want to be alone for whatever reason. The two soldiers stared at him from behind, not sure what to do. They saw how much of a wreck their leader had become... How sad Tord had been lately… But they never saw Tord freeze up like this. The two sat in silence as Tord stood frozen in front of the door.

“C-can I… do the paperwork… in here..?” Tord stuttered, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet and scared sounding. He chuckled softly.. Some feared leader he was! Getting all nervous just because he was too scared to be alone in his office.. He reached a shaky hand out for the doorknob and turned it, “Never mind..” he sighed as he started to walk out.

But he was stopped when a hand grabbed the wrist of his mechanical arm. “Yeah, you can stay in here if you want Tord” Paul spoke, his voice soft and caring. Tord filled with anger when he heard Paul use his real name but instead of doing anything he let out a shaky breath and walked back inside. Paul was doing this as a friend, not just as a soldier. It was fine if he called him by his real name. 

“...Thanks Paul..” Tord whispered, pulling a chair up to Paul’s desk and sitting down. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and started filling out the papers, signing his name on all the right lines. Paul and Patryk exchanged worried looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys sorry for taking so long to update?? Like I wanted to but I've been busy and lacking motivation for pretty much everything haha anyway I'm back and once i get tord to the new apartment writing should be easier! I'm not too happy with this chapter but here it is! Thanks for putting up with me c: This chapters song is "maps" by the front bottoms


	3. Only everyone can judge me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Another day I won’t remember,  
> another day I wished away.  
> Tedious days punctuated by dismay,  
> everyday feels the same. "

Soon Tord finished filling out the papers, and he glanced up at the clock at the wall. He still had around ten minutes until it was time for him and Patryk to go looking for furniture. He looked across the room at Patryk and saw that the man was typing away at his computer. Same thing with Paul. What were they doing? They shouldn’t have had much work today. He glanced around the room some more and took the sights in.

On Paul’s desk, there wasn’t much. There were a few coffee mugs that had ironic one-off jokes written on them. There were a few post-it notes here and there with reminders scribbled on them, saying things like ‘Be sure to go through the ammo shipments before Wednesday’ and ‘Get rid of Tord’s vodka’. His desk matched his personality, straight to the point with a bit of charm.

Patryk’s desk, on the other hand, was a wreck. He had letters from his grandmother pinned up and little post-it doodle taped around. He had mugs shaped like cats and pens littered about. Papers were scattered around to the point where you could barely see the wood of the desk He even had a little Newton’s cradle on the corner. It was a lot like him, too. Messy and disorganized, but still sweet.

He thought about his own desk and what it said about him. He didn’t have much on there. Just a pen and a name plaque. He normally had a bottle of vodka and shot glass there, but he could only assume that Paul took those away. His desk was just like him. Empty and sad. Before he could let his thoughts consume him, he felt a small tap on his shoulder and turned around to see Patryk. Did he not notice Patryk get up?

“Sir, It’s time for us to go shop for furniture,” Patryk said. His voice was gentle and soft like he was talking to an injured puppy or something. Tord nodded and got up, trying to fight off the sick feeling in his stomach. He didn’t really care for how Paul and Patryk were babying him. He liked it better when they were either ignoring him or being his right-hand men. He knew they had good intentions but... It made him feel a bit pathetic.

“Yeah let’s go do that, Patryk..” He mumbled, putting his chair back where it was before. He followed Patryk out of the office and through the halls. 

“I’ve prepared you an outfit for today, sir. You can’t go out in your overcoat anymore because people need to think you’re dead..” Patryk stated, “The outfit should be in your office right now so I’ll wait here while you change into it, sir.” Tord nodded and tightened his grip on his coat. He didn’t want to take it off. It was his shield from the world. His soft, blue, cotton shield. He stepped into his office, reluctantly shutting the door behind him. On his desk was a pair of black jeans along with a black and red flannel shirt. He reluctantly stripped of his overcoat, and stared down at the red hoodie he wore underneath it. 

The fabric almost seemed to taunt him. It was a gift from Edd a long time ago, a gift from one of his closest friends… A friend he lied to and betrayed. And now, just like his friendship with Edd, the hoodie was torn and stained with blood and tears. He couldn’t bring himself to take the hoodie off though... So he simply slipped the flannel on over the hoodie. Because as much as the fabric reminded him of all the shit he did wrong, it also reminded him of good times with his old friends. He took off his pants and slid the jeans on too. 

He looked in the mirror for a second time that day. He didn’t look any better, but instead of looking like a battle-scarred leader he looked like a scared and helpless hollow shell of a man. He looked away before he could look at himself in more detail. He hated looking at himself, hated seeing what he had become. He stepped out and Patryk was waiting for him, still wearing that stupid motherly smile. 

Patryk took off his peacoat and tossed it into Tord’s office. “I forgot to get an outfit for myself, but I’m sure this will do” he chuckled, “I’ll make sure to get my coat later, sir.”

“You better remember, soldier” Tord warned. There was no real threat behind the words and they came out somewhat nervous sounding. He was just trying his best to fill the role of ‘Red leader’ that he used to fill so easily. Amazing how one small event can change a person so much... 

“You better get used to calling me Patryk, sir. Whenever we’re off base I’m just Patryk and you’re just Tord.” 

Tord felt himself fill up with anger once more. He could keep it contained when he was sober, but he was still angry. He’d probably never get used to any of his soldiers calling him Tord. He still kept his anger hidden, though. Patryk was trying to be nice. So was Paul. It’d be wrong to get mad at them. It was wrong to be upset when people were trying to be nice. Tord simply nodded his head, keeping his fists clenched at his sides as they continued walking out of the base.

They reached a small red car that was parked outside of the base near the fence. Patryk smiled as he opened the door to the passenger’s side. “Here you are, Tord” he chirped.

“Thanks..” Tord grumbled, clenching his fists a bit tighter as he sat down in the seat. He went to shut the door, but Patryk had already shut it for him. Tord buckled in and leaned back in his seat. He watched as Patryk walked around to the driver’s side and got in.

Patryk buckled in and started up the car, “The store is about an hour away” he said, turning on the radio, “What music do you listen to?”

“I.. uh.. Alternative rock mostly..” Tord shrugged. Little by little his anger was being replaced by fear. They were leaving the base. The last time Tord had left the base… He tried not to think about it, and instead focus on the music that Patryk had turned on. He anxiously tapped his finger against the door as the car started to drive away from the base. Away from his safe haven, and towards the outside. He looked out the window and watched the trees blur by. 

What if people recognized him while he was out? What if people asked about his scars? What would he say? What would he do? He tried to stop think but he couldn’t. He moved to turn up the radio. Maybe he could just drown out the thoughts... 

“Do you like this song?” Patryk asked, noticing that Tord turned it up. He glanced over at Tord and them back to the road. 

“Yeah I guess..” He mumbled, still looking away. Patryk didn’t say anything else after that. The car was full of deafening silence, even with the loud music playing. 

After what felt like an eternity, Patryk stopped the car and gently nudged Tord. “We’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAaaa sorry this update is late!! some things came up qwq hope you guys like this chapter!! The song for this chapter is "only everyone can judge me" by crywank


	4. Every day, the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Walking down aisles of vintage stores and peacefully window shopping  
> Stalking the nightmare that cuts your core and keeps you sobbing  
> He could be anywhere around you and you just don't know it  
> The person who ended your greatest joy and truest friendship"

Tord stepped out of the car, silently panicking as he shut the door behind him. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. He couldn’t fight the anxious feeling in his gut, but he tried his best to hide it as he walked up behind Patryk.

“So.. w-what all do we need?” Tord asked, hiding behind Patryk. He didn’t really want to be seen. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the shoppers, though. Nobody else had the same ugly scars like him, or the same robotic hand, or-

“Well we’ll need beds, and a table for the kitchen, and probably a couch but.. We can get anything you want Tord,” Patryk chirped, pulling Tord out of his thoughts, “Don’t worry it’s not that crowded today, and we shouldn’t take to long.” He patted Tord’s back gently, trying to comfort the man a bit.

Tord nodded, stepping out from behind Patryk a bit. Having Patryk there with him was both great and terrible. The man’s motherly demeanor was incredibly comforting, but it also annoyed him to no end. He wasn’t too fond of being treated like a sick puppy. But Patryk was just trying to be nice, so Tord pushed that annoyance aside. He shouldn’t be annoyed. Patryk was just being nice. 

They walked into the store, and Tord felt like all eyes were on him. He stuck out like a sore thumb. He looked like he was seconds away from an anxiety attack, his face was covered in scars, and he was missing a damn arm. Everyone was staring at him. Everyone had to be staring at him. How could they not be? Tord looked like he didn’t belong there at all. People notice when things don’t belong, right? 

“So Paul and I were talking, and we wanted to have some sort of color scheme going on in the apartment.We thought that we’d keep the red because you like it so much but maybe spruce it up a little, y’know? Throw in some other colors to really make the place pop!” Patryk smiled. He seemed… oddly excited about furniture shopping.  
“Yeah sure, whatever..” Tord muttered. He wasn’t all too invested in furniture shopping, but he needed something to distract him. “What all did you have in mind?”

“Well we figured why not just throw in all of our favorite colors, and a few extra to make it work. I really like yellow, and Paul is a fan of dark browns so I’ve worked out this color palette.. What do you think?” Patryk asked, as he pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket. He handed it over to Tord. And.. god were those two color blind? These colors didn’t go together at all. There was a gross shade of yellow-y brown, some dark purple, and some other blindingly bright colors. He blinked a few times, hoping the colors would start to look good together. They didn’t.

“Patryk, these look awful,” Tord deadpanned, as he handed it back to Patryk, “How about we go with a similar color scheme to what we have on base. But instead of grey we’d use yellow, and maybe some browns too. We’d keep the blue and red, but maybe use a slightly different blue..” 

“Well I thought the colors looked splendid together, but I guess you’re better at that sort of thing. I’m a pilot not an artist,” Patryk shrugged. He put the paper back in his pocket and continued walking alongside Tord.

“You can barely call yourself a pilot,” Tord chuckled. Patryk just laughed in response.

Tord calmed down a bit. The conversation with Pat was really helping him distract himself. While they were walking and chatting, Tord was shoving all his emotions to some place where they’d hopefully never get to him. If he just suppressed all of his anxiety, all of his annoyance.. everything then nothing could hurt him.

The two of them continued walking through the store, stopping on occasions to look at things they liked. “What do you think of this couch, Tord?” Pat asked, walking over to what was probably the most tacky couch Tord had ever seen. It was one of those striped couches that your grandmother would have. Your blind grandmother. Who hated couches. 

“Patryk no that’s way too tacky. How about this one?” Tord suggested, walking over to a plain black leather couch. It looked just like the ones on base. 

“We have the exact same couch on base! Let’s get something different, like this one,” Patryk pointed over to a couch that was just as tacky as the last one, this time it was plaid and not striped.

“That one is just as bad as the last one!” Tord grumbled, “Let’s just stick with this one, we already know its good.”

“It’s not bad just.. Fun! Patterns scream fun!”

“Okay, how about we get patterned pillows then?”

Patryk huffed, and reluctantly agreed. After a bit more bickering the two decided on a navy blue couch with red and white striped pillows.

The rest of the shopping continued in a similar manner, Patryk would try and pick something ridiculously tacky and Tord would try to get the same things they had on base. Eventually they’d find a good middle ground and they’d repeat the process for the next item. 

After a while, they had finished shopping and had checked out. The furniture store was willing to ship the bigger things to the apartment, so they didn’t have to bother with that.They walked out of the store, carrying a few bags full of the few things that weren’t being sent straight to the apartment. 

“That was fun,” Patryk hummed, “But we should hurry up and get back to the base, I think it’s gonna rain soon.”

Tord looked up at the sky and was greeted with dark grey clouds. They looked menacing. Tord gulped, turning to Pat and nodding as they walked to the car. He’d be fine. So what if it rained a little? Rain never hurt anyone, and it sure as hell wouldn’t hurt anyone as strong as Tord. He was a strong leader. 

They got into the car and buckled in, sitting in silence as Patryk started up the car and backed out of their parking space. He didn’t turn on the radio this time. Tord leaned against the window and shut his eyes, hoping to take a short nap. Even if he did sleep last night he could certainly use the additional rest. 

Then he heard it. A small raindrop crashed against the window, and before he knew there were more. And more. The rain was pouring down by now. 

Tord gulped. It was loud. The rain sounded way louder than it should have sounded. But Tord was still fine. He was totally fine. He may have been the worst fucking person on earth, but he was still brave. 

Patryk didn’t seem to notice how nervous Tord was getting, instead he just focused on the road. “Wow, it sure is storming..” He noted, turning on the windshield wipers. The rain picked up again and Tord just grew even more anxious. 

But he totally wasn’t anxious at all. Nope. He wasn’t afraid of storms, thats stupid! He’d fought in wars why on earth would a little rain scare him? There was no anxious feeling in his gut at all. Then there was a loud crack of thunder, and Tord visibly jumped in his seats.

Nevermind, he was afraid. Tord had always been afraid of loud noises. Loud things were never good.

Loud things were glass bottles being thrown at the wall from across the room. They were his parents yelling at each other and at him. They were the sounds of a slap ringing through a silent room. They were the sounds of explosions near him. They were harpoons being shot right next to him. They were bad. Loud things were bad. 

Tord balled up in his seat, trying to hide his shaking. God he was such a fucking mess. He was supposed to be brave, strong, and fearless. And yet.. Here he was being afraid of something as simple as thunder. He felt tears prick in the corners of his eyes as he tried to suppress the anxious feeling that now consumed him. He turned his head to face away from Patryk. He didn’t want to be seen like this.

But it was kinda hard not to be seen buy somebody, when you’re sitting next to them in a small space. “Tord are you okay?” Patryk asked. 

Fuck. Fucking shit. Tord opened his mouth to speak, to say “I’m fine” or something like that. But instead he just let out a loud and pathetic yelping noise when more lightning struck and was followed by loud thunder. The two exchanged a glance, Pat’s face flooding with concern and Tord’s filled with fear.

“D-Don’t worry Tord, we’ll be at the base soon and then we can go inside and it’ll be nice and quiet. Just hang tight, it’ll be fine..” Patryk reassured, trying his best to keep a soothing demeanor. Although he had never been scared by storms or rain, it was always hard to see Tord look like that. It was always hard to see Tord look so.. Scared.

Tord had always seemed brave and strong ever since Patryk had met him. He had always seemed like a confident guy. But lately he just seemed like a shadow of his former self. Tord tried to hide it, but Tord also couldn’t remember all the times when he was drunk and bawling his eyes out in Paul and Pat’s office. 

After what felt like hours, they made it back to base. Tord had passed out. All that crying and anxiety had to be tiring for the Norwegian.

Patryk got out of the car and carefully picked Tord up out of his seat. It had stopped storming but it was still raining lightly. The drops of water feeling oddly soothing on Patryk’s back as he carried the sleeping man into the base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually hate this chapter, but this is as good as it's getting. Heres your furniture chapter. It's got some Pat & Tord bonding and some anxiety and I fucking hate it-- I promise the next chapter will be better,, This chapter is long though so maybe that makes up for how shitty it is.
> 
> This chapter's song is Every Day, The Same by hotel books. These songs aren't really related to the chapters, they're just whatever I listened to the most while writing it tbh.


End file.
